Read Online The Fourth Sunrise by H. T. Night - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: H. T. Night
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might be old, but I still function in modern society.”
“ I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have presumed that you didn’t know how to text. Anyway, why don’t you text her? I need to use the little girls’ room, but I do want to hear more about this story.” Sharee got up and made her way to the ladies’ room in the all-night coffee shop that was the location of a library fifty years before.
I took out my phone. I began to do the necessary things I had to do to my phone to get it so I could text. I was sure there was a faster way, but I’m an old man and I didn’t feel the need to learn how to do things faster that I was only going to do once a year.
As Sharee went to the bathroom, I flipped my phone around and attempted to text Christine. I had tried to text someone a couple of times before this and I think, only once was I successful.
I typed in a quick little note on my phone. It read: ‘What happened?’ Short and sweet.
To my surprise, I received a text back almost immediately. It read ‘1 new message.’ I pressed the button and a message come up: ‘I’m sorry. I just couldn’t come.’
Huh? What did that mean? Was she in trouble? Did she change her mind?
I texted back: ‘How come?’
Then she texted something very odd: ‘Someday, sometime, you’ll know why.’
What? Huh? What was that supposed to mean? That was it. No more text messages. I didn’t know what I thought. I was dying to see her again. It was heartbreaking that she didn’t come.
I sighed and I sat back and waited for Sharee to come back out of the ladies’ room. After a moment or so, she came back out and again sat next to me at the table.
“It looks like she couldn’t make it,” I said.
“ Did you speak to her?”
“ No, I texted like you said. She said someday it will make sense.”
“ Huh? What is that supposed to mean? If you don’t mind, can I read the text?”
I took out my phone and flipped to my text and handed it to Sharee. Sharee read out loud: “‘Someday, sometime, you’ll know why.’ What kind of cryptic bullshit is that?” Sharee laughed.
“I know. This whole relationship has been cryptic bullshit.”
I understood it was getting very late. It was nearing midnight and I wouldn’t want to keep such a woman who I had just met out so late listening to my silly sad tales. So I said to Sharee, “I think it’s probably time for you to get home.”
“Why? It’s an all-night coffee shop. I’m in love with your story. I have to hear more.”
“ Are you sure?” I asked, concerned because this was turning into something larger than I had planned. But what else did I have to do on a night that I was stood up? Also, Sharee was a lovely woman and I enjoyed her company.
“ What about you? Are you getting tired?” she asked.
“ No, I’m pretty chipper. I got a lot of rest today, thinking I would be seeing Christine tonight.”
“ Are you okay?” Sharee asked, concerned. She could tell by my body language that I was a little heartbroken by Christine not showing up. “Well, Joel, I think there is a second night to hear about.”
I smiled at the fact that Sharee seemed particularly fond of my story. It gave me a feeling that maybe the struggle I endured wasn’t so pathetic if a young woman like this would be so fascinated by a true story about my life.
“Well, before I tell you about the second night, there are a couple of important details you need to know.”
I continued the story.
“The next time I tried to see her was January of the following year.”
“ January?”
“ Yes. January,” I said.
“ Why did you wait till January? That was nearly six months later.”
“ I had finished up my year with the Dukes.”
“ They never called you up to the majors?”
“ No, they certainly didn’t. A lot had to do with my batting average. I was batting nearly .319 before I met Christine. The rest of the year I batted .200. My final batting average was .267 and, for the rest of the season,
“ I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have presumed that you didn’t know how to text. Anyway, why don’t you text her? I need to use the little girls’ room, but I do want to hear more about this story.” Sharee got up and made her way to the ladies’ room in the all-night coffee shop that was the location of a library fifty years before.
I took out my phone. I began to do the necessary things I had to do to my phone to get it so I could text. I was sure there was a faster way, but I’m an old man and I didn’t feel the need to learn how to do things faster that I was only going to do once a year.
As Sharee went to the bathroom, I flipped my phone around and attempted to text Christine. I had tried to text someone a couple of times before this and I think, only once was I successful.
I typed in a quick little note on my phone. It read: ‘What happened?’ Short and sweet.
To my surprise, I received a text back almost immediately. It read ‘1 new message.’ I pressed the button and a message come up: ‘I’m sorry. I just couldn’t come.’
Huh? What did that mean? Was she in trouble? Did she change her mind?
I texted back: ‘How come?’
Then she texted something very odd: ‘Someday, sometime, you’ll know why.’
What? Huh? What was that supposed to mean? That was it. No more text messages. I didn’t know what I thought. I was dying to see her again. It was heartbreaking that she didn’t come.
I sighed and I sat back and waited for Sharee to come back out of the ladies’ room. After a moment or so, she came back out and again sat next to me at the table.
“It looks like she couldn’t make it,” I said.
“ Did you speak to her?”
“ No, I texted like you said. She said someday it will make sense.”
“ Huh? What is that supposed to mean? If you don’t mind, can I read the text?”
I took out my phone and flipped to my text and handed it to Sharee. Sharee read out loud: “‘Someday, sometime, you’ll know why.’ What kind of cryptic bullshit is that?” Sharee laughed.
“I know. This whole relationship has been cryptic bullshit.”
I understood it was getting very late. It was nearing midnight and I wouldn’t want to keep such a woman who I had just met out so late listening to my silly sad tales. So I said to Sharee, “I think it’s probably time for you to get home.”
“Why? It’s an all-night coffee shop. I’m in love with your story. I have to hear more.”
“ Are you sure?” I asked, concerned because this was turning into something larger than I had planned. But what else did I have to do on a night that I was stood up? Also, Sharee was a lovely woman and I enjoyed her company.
“ What about you? Are you getting tired?” she asked.
“ No, I’m pretty chipper. I got a lot of rest today, thinking I would be seeing Christine tonight.”
“ Are you okay?” Sharee asked, concerned. She could tell by my body language that I was a little heartbroken by Christine not showing up. “Well, Joel, I think there is a second night to hear about.”
I smiled at the fact that Sharee seemed particularly fond of my story. It gave me a feeling that maybe the struggle I endured wasn’t so pathetic if a young woman like this would be so fascinated by a true story about my life.
“Well, before I tell you about the second night, there are a couple of important details you need to know.”
I continued the story.
“The next time I tried to see her was January of the following year.”
“ January?”
“ Yes. January,” I said.
“ Why did you wait till January? That was nearly six months later.”
“ I had finished up my year with the Dukes.”
“ They never called you up to the majors?”
“ No, they certainly didn’t. A lot had to do with my batting average. I was batting nearly .319 before I met Christine. The rest of the year I batted .200. My final batting average was .267 and, for the rest of the season,
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